


Side Quest

by appending_fic



Series: The Age of Mysteries (Ciphers) [10]
Category: Gravity Falls, Guardians of Childhood & Related Fandoms, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Curses, Deal with a Devil, Demon Summoning, Established Relationship, Jealousy, Self-Discovery, Video & Computer Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 05:45:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17740127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appending_fic/pseuds/appending_fic
Summary: When a curse befalls Jack, the humans lead the Guardians on a quest into a bizarre world to help rescue him. Meanwhile, Jack makes some discoveries, and Bunny makes some bad decisions.





	1. Chapter 1

Aster jumped a little at the slam of the front door, cracking the egg he was holding. He sighed and set it aside, hoping Jack didn’t get it into his head to ask about it. Aster was a Pooka, and the survivor of an eons-long war; he shouldn’t be so unaware so as to be startled by his own boyfriend. Of course, there wasn’t a place in the Warren that didn’t have Jack’s scent or magic on it, so none of the usual warnings twinged Aster to his presence.

Mind, Jack didn’t rate up with the Ten Thousand Enemies, so being aware of his presence wasn’t exactly a survival tactic.

“Y’alright, Jack?”

Jack sauntered into the kitchen, staff held loosely over his shoulders. He didn’t look particularly upset; he was almost, but not quite, smiling.

“I...am terrible at video games. I learned this by dying seventeen times in _Worlds of Fantasy_.”

“You don’t seem very cranky about it.”

Jack shrugged. “I’m getting old. It happens. Besides, I’m not the board games and video chats sort of fun.” He dropped into the chair next to Aster, peeking at the artwork. He grinned at the pattern, which had a frost-like quality, but thankfully made no comment. “So, eggs. You seem to be painting them. How’s that going for you?”

“Ace, up until someone wandered by and started ear-bashing,” Aster replied archly.

Jack swung around and tugged at Aster’s ear so Aster had to face him. He looked less cheerful now, a slight frown wrinkling the skin around his mouth, and eyebrows nearly meeting from his furrowed brow. “What’s wrong? It’s not even Halloween.”

“Thought I’d get an early start, because Frith knows who has been conspiring to keep me from having the time to finish the googies on time.” Aster glared at the table, where a dozen cracked eyes lay on their sides. “But they’ve been coming out...crook.”

“Aw, Bunny.” Jack reached up and began scratching the top of Aster’s head; he leaned back, feeling a quiet warmth overlaying the low buzz of anxiety. “You’re just pushing yourself too hard. You _know_ I’m going to help out as much as I can, and there’s no immediate supernatural threat, so we’ll be _fine_.” The hand moved away, to be replaced a moment later by the weight of Jack’s head as he resting his chin on the top of Aster’s head. “You just need to take your mind off it for a while.” Hands drifted down his arms, just chill enough to send a shiver through Aster.

“C - can’t say I’ve got any ideas how,” he replied.

“Really? I’ve got a couple.” Jack tugged up on Aster’s arms, and Aster followed, because following Jack barely qualified as a decision nowadays. For the first time in eons - possibly in his life - Aster could breath easy, both the specter of the Fearlings and the crushing stress of ages of loneliness eased. The sense of ease, the lack of background anxiety, was...nice, though unsettling in its unfamiliarity. He'd spent nights staring into the dark of his room, trying to get used to...not feeling fury or soul-deep pain.

Tonight, though, was not a time for being introspective, sleep coming easily as Aster dozed, warm and spent, next to Jack.

When he woke the next morning, it was alone. Aster had panicked the first few times that had happened, but Jack was a wanderer - part by nature and part by profession. He responded to the calls of the children, and odd whims. He always returned with presents. Some, like the blue-edged Christmas rose and the delicate echinacea cuttings, Jack had likely happened upon in his wandering (Aster had carefully cultivated them in a secluded corner of the Warren). Others, like the signed copy of _Watership Down_ (a personal note from Dick suggesting Jack had enlisted Tooth in helping the adult remember who had told him stories about El-ahrairah as a child), showed Jack had gone to some effort for Aster's sake.

It was sweet, so Aster let the flightiness go. But as he puttered about making breakfast, his mood darkened. He hadn't told Jack the whole truth about the eggs, and it didn't sit well with him. None of the others had noticed the sense of impending doom, signs of belief faltering again. He was beginning to doubt that anything was happening, wonder if he was slipping again. He was still lonely, still haunted by the thoughts of the Pooka who had not escaped to Elysium, those whose spirits had been tainted - or consumed - by the Fearlings. Maybe that was coloring his sense of Hope. Maybe that was making it impossible to paint the eggs.

Around mid-morning, Aster took a deep breath and set aside the rag he'd been using to absent-mindedly polish his kitchen table. He'd been dithering for weeks, but was fed up with feeling uncertain and worried.

Aster slipped through the maze of tunnels that made up the Warren, following paths only a Pooka could find, until he reached his workroom. He kept scraps of lore here, spells and secrets scattered across his desk. And in one side drawer, a page he'd stolen from one of Katherine's books (a shameful secret, but he'd known the knowledge shouldn't be available to any child who wandered into her library).

It was this last he removed and set on the desk, a page containing an annulus inset with an Eye of Providence (sort of - the hat and tie were a little off model). The Gate of Truth was dangerous; Aster had torn the page from a book detailing that in depth. But in the intervening eons, some individual had stepped up to become the Guardian of Truth, making it...if not safe, than _safer_.

Aster began drawing out the diagram; there were two on the page, and he made sure to use the one with the bow tie, because the other one would kill him...or worse.

And when he was finished, double-checking his work, Aster stood at the edge of the circle, and chanted:

" _Triangulum, entangulum. Meteforis dominus ventium. Meteforis venetisarium!_ "

A triangle, white-hot, edged in octarine, appeared above the diagram. The air smelled of burning tin and sulfur, temperature rising as the triangle glowed brighter.

Before Aster could seriously worry about needing to shut down the summoning, the blinding light and scorching heat vanished. The room went dim and cool, and a quiet whispering filled the air.

The triangle floating in front of him was vibrant gold, wearing a top hat and tie, and its eye opened, hazel with strange octarine veins deep within it.

"Hey, Eggs!" The triangle held out a hand. Aster shook it after noting the hand extended _outside_ the circle. "You know, out of all of you, I didn't expect you to be the first one to summon me. But hey, I've been wrong before. What's up, long-ears?

Aster took a step back, feeling a little uncertain. If someone had asked him what he'd expected from the Guardian of Truth, Bill Cipher...this wasn't it.

"Things're ace."

"Tsk tsk tsk. What would the kiddies say if they knew you were lying?" Bill wagged a finger at Aster. "Come on, you're not the type to play games. Come out and say it."

Aster shook his head. "I wanna know...how this works. Do I pay you up front, or…"

"What?" Bill stared at Aster for a few tense seconds before it burst into laughter. "Oh, man! That's hilarious. Carrots, you're a _Guardian_. Just ask whatever. Now, I warn you: getting me to do _favors_ , that's what you have to pay for."

"Why?"

Bill drifted closer, eye gleaming. "Because I've got nigh-infinite knowledge. Anything else, I'd have to expend my substantial magical prowess on your behalf, and that I don't like doing for free. Unless it's funny."

Aster snorted. "You sound like Jack."

"Oh, _please_. I don't need you making doe-eyes at me, and I've got no interest at all in all that...rutting."

"What?" Aster's face flushed. "Have you been - _watching_ us?"

"Carrots, I would be _thrilled_ if I could excise the details of yours and Jack's sexual history from my mind. But knowing unpleasant truths comes with the territory. As does all the hilarious little dramatic ironies that make up life."

"So...you know if the ankle biters have been losing belief."

"Not belief. _Hope_."

Aster's blood ran cold. "What?"

Bill snapped his fingers; a chalkboard appeared behind him, with a graph sketched on it. "If you'll take a look, you'll see that the level of hope in the world has been dropping...pretty steadily over the last year and a half or so. Hey! Isn't that when you started getting depressed?"

"That's...dead set, yeah." Aster's stomach twisted nervously. "But me and Jack-"

"Yeah. It seems weird. Maybe you're not as happy as you think you are."

Aster took a step away from Bill, his unease growing. "I _love_ Jackie you - you polygon!"

Bill raised his hands, weird little stick things, like a kid's drawing. "Hey, just thinking out loud, here. I mean, the only other possibility I can come up with is...never mind."

"Is what?"

"Well...have you ever wondered where Fearlings come from?"

"Yeah, but Ombric's been poking into that for yonks, and he's got nothing. Do you know anything about it?"

"Oh, sure. Nigh-infinite knowledge, remember?"

"Then why didn't you _tell anybody_?"

"Look, I know a _lot_ of things people might want to know. If I spent all my time bouncing back and forth telling the people who might want to know them, I'd never get _anything_ done. Besides, knowing who made the Fearlings wouldn't have made it easier to beat them. Frankly, I don't see how knowing who made the Fearlings would help you deal with the problem right now."

"But he's...the one mucking about?"

"It'd explain a lot. Someone with that kind of power...he could drag down the world's hope, keep the rest of your pals from noticing."

"Yeah, and you think I don't need to know who the mongrel is?"

"It wouldn't do much good unless you knew how to get ahold of him, and I don't see that happening anytime soon. But hey, at least you know that you need to watch your back! And maybe I've got a consolation prize around here somewhere...I never remember if bunnies actually like carrots. Oh!"

Bill produced a battered pink plastic tiara. "Here! I realized you're the last surviving Pooka, and that makes you King of the Rabbits. And what king doesn't have a coronation?"

"I think you ought to leave, Cipher."

There was a moment of silence before Bill tossed the tiara aside. "Alright. But don't say I didn't try to help you, Eggs. And don't hesitate to call!" Color flowed back into the world, leaving Aster alone in his workroom. He glared down at the diagram until the lines began to blur from the strain of staring. Eventually, Aster stormed from the room and found a mop to wash the floor clean. He'd spent an hour trying to scrub every trace of the marks from the floor when the wards alerted him to an intruder.

Well, North.

He found the old man sitting in his kitchen; normally, North would have prepared tea, but he just had a glass of water, and set it aside when he saw Aster step into the room.

"There you are! Were worried when you didn't answer Aurora."

Aster shrugged. "Must've missed it. What's the snag?"

North's face shifted into a frown. "Ah...it's Jack."

Aster's heart skipped and his stomach clenched; perhaps Cipher had been right, and Aster had known better than to hope this would turn out well. "What about Jack?"

"Well...you'd better come and see."


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey, kid, wake up."

Jack sat up quickly, though it set his head spinning. The last thing he remembered was Jamie's game, and running into another player, a Hex-Witch, Jamie had called them-

The room surrounding Jack couldn't even be called a cell. There wasn't a cot, a window, or even a toilet. He couldn't see any gaps that might let air in-

And on that note, Jack wasn't breathing.

Normally, that might have made Jack panic, but there was only a vague worry, concern for Aster, left behind without him.

And speaking of Aster…

Jack turned fully, to the source of the voice that had woken him. It was a Pooka, about a foot shorter than Jack, covered in dark red fur. Red eyes gleamed in the dimness of the room. It didn't raise any alarm, but Jack needed to cover all his bases before he decided what to do.

"You're not Death, are you?"

The Pooka snorted. "You're the first person who's ever mistaken me for the Black Rabbit."

Jack shrugged, scratching idly at one ear. "It seemed like a good question, especially as I don't seem to be breathing."

"Don't have a heartbeat, either." the Pooka replied.

Jack nodded. "Does that mean I'm dead?"

"Yes...and no."

"Oh. It's going to be one of _those_ conversations."

The Pooka ducked his head. "Sorry. It really depends on what 'dead' means to you. Has your heart stopped beating? No. Is your soul in your body? Also no."

And there it was, something that would have set Jack's heart racing, if he weren't, apparently, a disembodied consciousness. "So where's my body?"

"The more important question is where is your _soul_."

Jack nodded and took in the room again. It looked, at first glance, to be made of stone, but on closer inspection looked like someone had just painted a stone texture over something…

Without organs to create the bolt of adrenaline, the realization wasn't a shock, but it was still possibly the last thing Jack had expected.

"I'm in _Worlds of Fantasy_."

The Pooka nodded. "You've got that on the, ah, nose."

"And what, are you stuck here too?"

The Pooka shook his head. "No. I'm here to help."

"And how do I know that? If this is just _Worlds of Fantasy_ , you could be Pitch wearing a - a sprite, or skin, or whatever you call it."

The Pooka sighed, rubbing at his forehead. "I always hate dealing with the clever ones. Look, protecting the Pooka is my _job_ , basically-"

"And you're worried what'll happen to Bunny if I can't get out of here? Sweet, but not convincing."

The Pooka took a deep breath (or appeared to; he was unlikely to be more than a disembodied consciousness himself) and stared at Jack, possibly mulling over his options.

"You can hardly get rid of me," the Pooka said, at last. "So I suppose I'll just offer advice you can choose to ignore."

"That'll place you about even with everyone else I know. So what do I call you?"

"El-ahrairah."

Jack couldn't help the smirk. "Don't you usually show up to help Pooka out of jams?"

" _Yes_."

"This seems an awful lot of work to go through for Bunny's sake."

El-ahrairah opened his mouth, paused, and then shook his head. "Funny thing. When most of your species is dead, you get attached to the ones that are left."

"Fair enough." Jack turned slowly, taking in the featureless cell. "Any thoughts about how to get out of here?"

El-ahrairah circled the cell, something that took only a few moments, before looking up at Jack and shrugging.

"I generally try to keep from getting thrown in places like this in the first place. What about you? Aren't you some sort of wizard?"

"I can control ice like nobody's business." Jack's staff was probably in the real world, but he didn't need it for little things anymore. He snapped his fingers.

Nothing happened. "Okay. That could be bad."

"I meant in the _game_ ," El-ahrairah said. "You need to follow certain rules while you're in here, and your Guardian magic doesn't do that."

Jack _had_ chosen to play as a wizard, but he was level 3, incapable of casting more than the weakest in-game spells. And apparently, he'd made some dumb choices when learning spells, like _knock_ , which Jamie said was a waste of resources when you had a rogue-

"I can open locked doors!"

"That took you long enough." El-ahrairah settled back against one of the walls, folding his arms.

"Well, I'm a disembodied consciousness. Everything's a little fuzzy." Jack reached up and rubbed the bridge of his nose. It didn't quite feel right, but Jack supposed that was the result of having lost his nerve endings. He looked up and turned around slowly. Remembering his spells was a good first start, but there didn't seem to be a door.

But hadn't Jamie told him something about multiple targets?

Jack pumped his fist when it came to him. "It'll cost double mana, but I don't have anything else to use it for…" At which point Jack realized he had no idea _how_ to cast magic. Jamie had linked his _knock_ spell to the '3' key, but there wasn't a '3' key in the game. "Um."

"Oh, come _on_. You're an innately magical being, and you're going to tell me you can't figure out how to dig around for magical talents?"

"Well, it's been three hundred years since I had to do this," Jack snapped, feeling his cheeks heat.

"You haven't been _testing_ your power since then?" El-ahrairah darted around to face Jack, nose wrinkled and the rest of his face crinkled in annoyance. "No _wonder_ that kid caught you! Come on, dig deep, kid."

Deciding that getting out of here took priority over arguing with a Pooka folk legend, Jack closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. It took a few minutes, because he _hadn't_ done this in ages, but then he found the core of his being, and there, linked to it, magic. Pitiful, of course, compared to what he normally had, but it had a spell for opening doors, and by pumping out extra mana, it would open every door in the spell's fifteen-foot range.

"Well done." Jack opened his eyes, and felt a grin pull at his mouth. Not only had a section of wall slid aside, a panel in the floor had opened. There was a six-inch metal rod in there, which Jack remembered was a wand.

"That's convenient." And then Jack took pause, because there was no way a reasonable captor would have left a magic wand in Jack's cell.

The _game_ , however…

Being in the game meant a lot of things. It meant injury came in the form of hit point loss, instead of incapacitation. It meant magic was quantized, and that some things were too powerful for Jack to fight. But unless his captor had built this place from the ground up, it meant there were secret caches of weapons, armor, and magic items all over the place, which gave Jack a fighting chance of getting out of here.

Especially since whatever mage's skills came with being in the game were telling him that he'd found a wand of _fireball_.

Obviously, Jack didn't go out blasting. The wand had limited power, and he didn't know how big the place was. But he strode out into the hallway with more confidence than he'd had. Like the room, the hallway was made of the strange stone texture over whatever quintessence made up the matter in the game. There were tapestries hanging from the wall, depicting fanciful beasts and strange devices. There were no guards, which was an excellent first step.

Unfortunately, the next step involved discovering the place was a maze, and not the easy kind you could navigate by keeping your right hand on the wall. Jack was used to the maze of twisty passages in the Warren. Like the Warren, the passages seemed to intersect impossibly, but it also seemed to be shifting. The occasional treasure chest and hidden door did little to help him find his way, especially as he never found an open chest to suggest he'd been along a path more than once. Without breath, a heartbeat, hunger, or fatigue, Jack didn't know how long he walked before he slumped against a wall, sliding down to sit on the floor. It took a moment of shifting to get comfortable; the sense of disconnection from his astral body was becoming worrying. The fact that he didn't know how long he'd been bodiless was equally worrying. He had two, maybe three days before his body would die for lack of a soul.

Jack glanced up at El-ahrairah, who was sniffing at the air. "I don't suppose you have any bright ideas."

El-ahrairah shrugged. "Not really."

"Great help you are."

"I'm sorry! It's...complicated."

"Of course it is. Hey, look at me, I'm an unhelpful giant rabbit-" Jack froze. He'd been waving his hands in his mockery of El-ahrairah, and one had passed into his field of vision.

Except it wasn't a hand.

It was a paw, a fuzzy, _lapine_ paw. Jack tugged it out, finding the paw was attached to a long, furry limb, that his other hand was a paw, and the weird sensation when he'd touched his face made a little more sense.

"What's...happening to me?" El-ahrairah didn't answer, just watched Jack, until everything clicked. El-ahrairah wasn't helping Jack to protect _Bunny_. "Look, I don't know what that - witch did to me, but I'm not a Pooka, really."

"Come on. You've got just under two decades of missing memories - you ever wonder about that?"

"Yeah, but there were only _two_ Pooka on Earth, and the other one...died." Jack pushed himself slowly to his feet (and yeah, those were paws, on the end of slim, muscular legs, all covered in pale cream fur broken up by strange white patches). Looking down at El-ahrairah, Jack realized the Pooka ( _other_ Pooka) was probably close to Jack's height (his _real_ height? His human height?), making Jack...Jesus, a little shorter than Bunny.

"That's true. But just because it's the truth doesn't make it the _whole_ truth. The U-Hrairoo were closer to House Fritillary than most; resurrection comes easily to them. Unfortunately, your memory wasn't so easily preserved."

"If that's true, why didn't I get my memories back when I found my teeth?"

"Because you were trying to remember life as a _human_."

Jack was ready to retort, but _that_ brought him up short. "Huh." Because there had been...dreams, images, things he'd ignored, barely noticed, because they weren't a part of the past he _knew_ he'd had. He slid back down to the floor, shifting to make sure he didn't sit on his tail (he had a _tail_!). He took a deep breath (or the facsimile of one), and tried to concentrate, open to whatever images, whatever memories might come.

_"Come now, Hellebore, there's nothing to be frightened of."_

_"There is! I saw a monster in the closet!"_

_A sigh, and an achingly familiar figure, a white-coated Pooka covered in black spots, turned to Jack - Hellebore? - and moved to his side. She tugged open a drawer in a small table by...Hellebore's bed, and removed a small black pouch. "I suppose we'll need to use dream sand, then, won't we, to protect you from nightmares."_

Jack's whole being ached, then; of course she was dead, or worse-

_"Mum said she'd take care of the Dream Pirates."_

_“I couldn’t say for sure about all of them, but...there were a lot of ship pieces out there.”_

_Jack turned, and there was - Bunny! Younger, less weary, less bulky, but unmistakably his green-eyed, grey-and-blue-coated Bunny. A smile tugged at his mouth._

_“So, I’m guessing you’re the one who charged in to save me from the big, bad Fearlings.”_

It was the same feeling as when Jack's heart skipped a beat, a pause in the world around him, at the impossible coincidence, that somehow he'd known Bunny and lost him, only to find him a billion years later-

_“I can’t abandon my duty, Hellebore. When this is all over, I’ll find you. But right now, I have to fight.”_

And that sent Jack - sent Hellebore - scrambling to his feet. He lunged at the Pooka spirit, who scrambled back. Hellebore's vision had gone red, blinded by a fury he shouldn't be able to feel as a mere spirit.

"You _knew_! All this time he was looking for _me_ , and you _knew_!"

"Oh, _can it_!" El-ahrairah straightened suddenly, and despite their difference in height, seemed to loom over Hellebore. He flinched back from the imposing spirit - the greatest of all of them. "I'm not...I'm not Frith, some all-knowing, omnipresent being. Once, you could find me wherever there were Pooka. But now…"

"You're all in my head."

El-ahrairah nodded once, tersely, and Hellebore took a hesitant step forward, holding a paw out to El-ahrairah. The other Pooka stared at it for an interminable moment before taking it. Hellebore pulled him forward, and ghost held hallucination in a tight embrace.

"I'm sorry," El-ahrairah murmured. "I don't know anything you don't, and I tried so hard to help you remember, but even when you got your memory back-"

"Shut up." El-ahrairah's jaw clicked shut. "You did an _amazing_ job for a mental projection, or racial memory, or whatever you are. I bet you spent a trillion years keeping Bunny from getting himself killed fighting the Fearlings. And I got the important messages. I remembered Bunny and I were alike in the ways that mattered. I remembered he _mattered_ to me." Another memory flashed through Hellebore's mind. "Hey! You got me out of House Illuminov's fortress! _And_ got all the dead Pooka their own little corner of the Unknown! So good job all around!"

El-ahrairah pulled back, eyes watery, but he was smiling, and Hellebore did so in response.

"I'm not used to being the one being comforted," El-ahrairah explained.

Hellebore shrugged. "I'm all about doing the unexpected."

"Well, thanks."

"Wait." Hellebore looked up. The ceiling was made of the same material as everything else, but there was a difference between it and everything else. if you kept going up, you eventually found _sky_.

He took out the wand.

"Hellebore?"

"You know what stone walls are weak to? Point-blank annihilation."


	3. Chapter 3

"I am being uncertain about this plan." North tapped at his laptop uncertainly. Unsurprisingly, it was red. The ones he'd provided for the rest of the Guardians were color-coded as well, green for Tooth and yellow for Sandy.

"Look, Uncle Ford said it's perfectly safe. Well, unless we die in the game. Which is why we're coming with you."

"Yeah, we're going to pwn that hex witch until he tells us how to fix Jack!"

"We're not supposed to lead children _into_ danger," Tooth offered.

"In case you haven't noticed, none of us are really children anymore." Jamie grit his teeth at the drawling voice coming through the headset. They'd been on their way to join Dipper on a raid when Jack had collapsed, so it had been natural to drag him in to help along with the Guardians. Mabel was, therefore, an expected addition. The other girl Pacifica, was not. She was another one of Dipper's friends, and something about her put him on edge. "Especially after the judge granted my petition."

"Wait, he did?"

"Hm, did you ever doubt it? I am a certified adult as of today. No more legal guardian, no trustees, just Pacifica Northwest!"

"Hey, we've got a mission here," Jamie snapped. "Now, has everyone made their accounts?"

"I don't like this," Bunny grumbled from his perch next to Jamie's bed.

Tooth fluttered to him, making an aborted reach for him before drawing back. "Bunny, we don't know who did this or why. We need someone to keep an eye on Jack's body so nothing happens to it. Baby Tooth's staying with you for an extra pair of eyes, and Katherine and Ombric are just a quick call away."

"I know that," Bunny snapped. "I just feel like we're making a blue, here."

"You think is some sort of trap?"

" _I don't know_!" Bunny wailed, and Jamie saw the flinch of the rest of the Guardians present, the sympathetic looks. Jack and Bunny had worked...something out after their trip through the Unknown. He wasn't sure if they were dating, or mated, or married or what, but the loss of Jack's soul was wearing on Bunny more than the rest of them. "I don't want to knock the plan, but this whole mess feels...wrong."

"I know what you mean," Tooth agreed. "But we don't have another plan, and we've got...two days to get Jack back." She didn't continue; Dipper had told Jamie what happened to a body without a soul, and the Guardians certainly knew.

"That'd be right. So I guess you lot'll be on your way."

"We _are_ going to find him." Mabel's voice was firm and even; Jamie remembered that tone when she'd promised him Sophie would be fine. That assurance had saved him from the ghost protecting the Beast's soul, so though there was no good reason to, her declaration gave him a little hope.

"Let's not oversell, here," Pacifica said. "I got ahold of a server admin, and he said Jack's avatar is nowhere to be found."

"Yeah, okay, let's _not_ get everyone down by listing all the plans that haven't worked. Uncle Ford's got a few tools he lent us, and I've got a couple of ideas from Katherine's library. However, as Toothiana reminded us, we _are_ on a time crunch, so let's get going. Bunny - we might be...a while, so hold it together."

Bunny nodded once, but then seemed to catch himself. "Ah - no worries."

"We've won against worse odds," Dipper said gently. "Alright, if everyone's ready, just sign in." It took a few moments for everyone to do so, and then there were seven avatars gathered in Mabel's in-game house, a garish riot of colors Jamie wasn't certain were even programmed into the game. "Hang onto your hats."

Dipper's character, an elven brunette with sharp features and a dangerous golden tint to his eyes, made a gesture that looked like he was starting spell, but the fingers clipped through each other, going fuzzy and blocky as they moved, and then Jamie felt the world shift under him-

"Dipper, what the _fuck_ -"

Pacifica's statuesque blonde-coated fox ranger stumbled forward, nearly falling into Dipper. Jamie's head spun; it took a moment to realize it was because his dwarf healer was much closer to the ground than he was.

"Oh my goodness; this is amazing!" Mabel's six-inch-tall sprite flitted past Jamie's eyes, leaving a trail of sparkles.

"Oof!" Tooth's elf slumped to the ground. "Why don't I have wings?"

"We really didn't have the time to grind to get you a flight skill," Dipper replied.

"Why do I appear to be some kind of bear?"

"Because it's the closest thing they have to someone your size." Sandy's golden-haired gnome poked North's stomach.

"Actually, the claws were the best way to duplicate a dual-wielding skill."

"Also, bears are adorable!"

" _Anyway_." Dipper stepped into the center of the little knot of fantasy creatures, arms folded behind him. "We've got a lot to do, and not a lot of time. Jamie, I need you and Pacifica to head to Winterhaven and see if anyone's seen our hex witch."

Jamie's stomach twisted. "Can't someone else go?"

"Of course not; you're the only person who's _seen_ the asshole," Pacifica snapped. "The important question is why I'm stuck with the kid who believes in Santa Claus."

"You're on a rescue mission with Santa Claus to save Jack Frost," Jamie pointed out.

Pacifica rolled her eyes. "And he'll still be around whether or not I believe in him. Anyway, Dipper?"

Jamie was already opening his mouth to argue, to explain that no, Santa Claus might _not_ exist if Pacifica insisted on not believing in him, when Dipper answered.

"Because you know the game and are good at getting people's attention." Dipper smiled gently at Pacifica, shrugging as he did so. "And I need practically everyone else to help with the magic side of things." He stepped a little closer to Pacifica, tilting his head at a slight angle. "You can handle this, right?"

"Please." She tossed her head a little, glancing down at Jamie. "Who got us the scoop on that promotional raid?"

"I still think you bribed someone," Mabel interjected.

"The day I spend more than the sticker price on playing a video game is the day I will shoot myself." Pacifica grabbed Jamie's shoulder and made for the door, forcing Jamie to scramble to keep up. "I will catch you losers later with the name, a picture, and IP address of our jerkbag. Good luck with the hocus-pocus or whatever."

Outside was the tiny village of Sparkletown, which according to _Worlds of Fantasy_ legend, was the cultural capital of the pixie kingdom. Jamie avoided it as much as possible, because it was _nearly_ as garish as Mabel's in-game house.

"So…"

"I'm really not in the mood right now," Pacifica said. "I was supposed to be meeting with someone about a translation of the Voynich Manuscript, but instead, I'm chasing down an imaginary winter spirit who literally knows nothing about the MMO in which he has found himself." She kicked a geode, yelping when she discovered her character not wearing shoes meant that kicking rocks was a bad idea.

"Jack's not imaginary."

"Is he an alien, like you claim the Easter Bunny is? Because that's at least mildly interesting; Mabel's been trying to get me in touch with the Galactic Federation, and I could use another point of contact."

"No. I mean-"

"Look, Jamie. I literally could not care less about this 'Guardian' malarky. I am here as a favor to Dipper." Pacifica fumbled in her pockets for a moment before producing a teleport crystal. "Okay, our inventories are _weird_ inside the game. _Winterhaven_."

The sensation of teleportation was like the trip when Jamie had tried running down a moving sidewalk and hit the end. Pacifica yelped, and then they were standing in the towering stone buildings of Winterhaven, eternally coated in snow.

"So, how long have you known Dipper?"

"My _God_ , we are on a rescue mission for _your_ friend, not a sleepover!" Pacifica snapped. "So let's get this over with so I can get back to my life!" She gave their surroundings a swift glance before stalking toward the tavern district, leaving Jamie behind. Stunned, he watched after her for a few moments. He knew, from what Mabel had been willing to tell him about Pacifica, that she was...abrasive, but Dipper liked her, and he'd thought Dipper had better taste than to like someone who was _actually_ terrible.

But she was right; they had a job to do, so Dipper forced himself to move. It took a few minutes to catch up to her, and only because she'd paused to consider the taverns for the three major guilds.

"I'm Empire, so I'd get lynched if I set foot in the Republic bar, and vice-versa for you. And I don't know _how_ Free Legions players respond to interlopers."

"You're...what?"

Pacifica rolled her eyes and scoffed. "I walked into a Republic tavern by mistake - _once_."

"Yeah, but you're hanging out with me."

"For _Dipper_. If I ran into you in any other circumstance-"

"Wait. I thought Dipper said you were good with people."

Pacifica's hands - paws - clenched, and she took a deep breath. "Dipper is not as perceptive as he likes to think. Of _course_ I can get people's attention and get them to do things for me. I am _ludicrously_ wealthy."

A vague memory flitted across Jamie's mind. When Sophie had gone missing, Mabel had said Dipper was seeing to a friend whose parents had died, who didn't have many others to turn to…

Jamie bit back the first three responses, because they wouldn't help. "Well, I never had much trouble with all these factions. Obviously, I had to pick a side, but…" He shrugged. "Some people remember it doesn't really matter; it's just a _game_. So. Who first?"

Pacifica gave Jamie a long look, one he couldn't quite decipher. "Free Legions, then."

"Alright." Jamie wandered toward the 'Wandering Boar', Pacifica following. Inside, it was...well. The sort of players who wanted to play gnomes and pixies tended toward the Free Legions, but it was hardly a rule. Still, they all had a similarity in attitude, and it meant the bar inside was wild, riotous, and full of color. There was a pause when the two of them entered the building, their allegiance floating over their heads for all to see. And then…

"Heyy, True Believer!" a dwarf called. "Who's your foxy friend?"

Jamie laughed, shaking his head. "This is All the West."

"Then come over and have a drink!"

Jamie snagged Pacifica's arm and dragged her after him as he approached the table where the dwarf (username NoTimeforLogic) and his friends were seated.

"Jamie…"

"Aw, don't worry," Logic said, patting the table. "True Believer's a cool guy, so his girlfriend is safe in here."

Jamie sputtered, and Pacifica burst out laughing, reached for Jamie's shoulder for support as she did. 

"Girlfriend? Oh, no no no no no."

"Not even _remotely_ ," Jamie confirmed. "But she is a friend."

"Oh, I thought she was that chick out west you talk about all the time."

"Mabel?" Jamie wasn't sure if Pacifica's expression was horrified, but it was definitely shocked.

"No, it was something weird, like-"

" _Dipper_?"

Logic snapped his fingers. "Yeah!"

At Pacifica's slightly more incredulous glare, Jamie felt a moment of...not panic; his cheeks weren't burning and heart wasn't racing. But it wasn't pleasant being the focus of that interest. "We're not - I didn't...anyway, Dipper's a guy. He's just cool."

Logic shrugged. "Well, then, since I've inappropriately delved into your personal affairs, I think I owe you something."

"How about some information?"

Logic nodded. "As best as I can do, Believer."

Dipper grabbed a chair and sat. "We're looking for someone...a hex witch, who got a friend of ours pretty badly."

"Gah, hex witches." Logic made a broad waving gesture. "I don't think I've met one in ages. At low levels, people avoid them, because that AOE hex is nasty until they learn how to properly direct it. And...they never seem to get to high levels."

"I think...this one was pretty high level," Jamie offered. "He was wearing a King's Helm, I think, and one of those fancy mana recharge robes - all sky blue and covered in red stars."

"Hm. What race?"

"Human. Pretty tall for one, too. Almost as much as a troll or a bear-person."

Logic hummed again, but didn't move. A subtle feeling at the back of Jamie's mind suddenly snapped into place. He'd been feeling weird ever since he walked into the bar; Logic's lack of motion made it all make sense. It was easy to forget this wasn't the real world, that they'd stepped into a video game where everyone else was an avatar with a limited range of movement.

"I can ask around if you like, but I don't think I've seen someone like that."

"Well, that's great." Pacifica grabbed Jamie's shoulder. "Come on, let's see if anyone can be useless at us."

"Hey, wait." Jamie sat back down and turned to Logic. "When you say ask around, do you mean your squad, or...everybody?"

"What do you mean, everybody?"

Logic didn't answer Pacifica, just humming again. "When you say this witch 'got' one of your guys...what exactly are you talking about? Ripping him off? Griefing?"

"Ripping his soul out of his body and trapping it in the _Worlds of Fantasy_ servers."

"Oh my _god_ , don't tell him _that_."

But Logic didn't seem to be listening to Pacifica. He didn't seem to be paying attention to much of anything, because he didn't respond when Jamie waved his hand in front of Logic's face.

"Oh god," Pacifica muttered, "He's in league with the hex witch. Let's get out of-"

Logic stood abruptly. "Hey, sorry. Afk." His face twitched into a frown. "You never said you knew the Mystery Twins. Look, if there's weird Gravity Falls-type stuff happening, I'll ask everybody."

"Hey!" Pacifica punched Jamie's shoulder; he turned, wincing, to meet her narrow gaze, nose wrinkled and mouth downturned. "What is going in here? Who's 'everybody'?"

Jamie gave her a smile, hoping it was enough to calm her. "Everybody is...well, not _everybody_. But most of the guilds, a whole bunch of loners, and-"

"All of the mods."

"Right. Logic here is a master crafter." At Pacifica's continuing confusion, Jamie let a sigh escape. "You can make stuff at a massive discount the first time you make something for an individual."

"Making friends with everybody's the most efficient way to improve your crafting skill," Logic added helpfully. "But it's not something I like taking advantage of unless it's for a good cause. And if there's weird Mystery Twins shit going down…"

The look Pacifica gave Jamie was strange. She didn't look annoyed, but not quite happy. She was examining him, he decided, although he couldn't tell what conclusion she'd come to. But a moment later, he realized Logic was talking and he'd missed something.

"-At least a couple of hours. Not everyone thinks the Mystery Twins vblog is real, so I'm probably not going to stick in that little gem. I'm gonna say he's been harassing the hell out of your friend."

"Yeah, thanks." Jamie gave Pacifica another quick glance before deciding this wasn't the time. "You've got me as a contact, right?"

"Of course." Logic waved at them. "Go on, and tell me if you run into him on your own."

"Right. Thanks." Jamie pushed himself up from the table and turned. "Pacifica?"

"Yeah, coming." She trailed Jamie out of the bar, uncharacteristically quiet. This silence only lasted until they were outside, and a few dozen yards away from the bar.

"I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I sort of thought you'd be useless," Pacifica said. "I make fun of you a lot for believing in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny and all-"

"I still don't get it; you _know_ they exist!"

"That doesn't mean I need to _believe_ in them, not when they've done nothing to help!"

And that - Jamie paused, uncertain if he should step back, or offer the hug he would've if Pacifica was his friend. Because that was the voice, the huddled stance, of a person who'd been at the end of her rope, and hadn't seen a frost bunny to give her something to believe in. Bill Cipher had killed her parents, and she'd gotten no resolution.

"So I guess I thought you were...sort of useless, needing a rabbit and a fairy to get you out of jams." She flushed, turning from Jamie. "Compared to Dipper-"

"Well, compared to Dipper, the _Guardians_ practically look like kids."

Pacifica twisted her head back to Jamie, mouth open, but paused, closing it after a moment. "Yeah, well. Dipper. _Anyway_ , your ability to wrangle other people into doing stuff for you despite being...poor, has forced me to revise my opinion. So. I'm sorry."

A smile tugged up at Jamie's mouth, and his chest loosened. "Glad I could impress you."

"Let's not go overboard, here. In fact, let's check in with everyone else."

Back at Mabel's house, she was flitting anxiously at eye level while the others debated a lot of indecipherable scribbles on a chalkboard someone had produced.

"Look, that's what being 'in the cloud' means-"

"So I do not understand why we cannot find computer in Waco and get Jack back."

"Because he might not be in just one server," Dipper said. "And even if he _is_ , the place is probably guarded, and, more importantly, do you have _any_ idea how to download someone's soul from a USB dongle into a living body?"

North took a step back, furry face wrinkling in concern. "Ah. Did not think of that."

Dipper ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "Unsurprising. Look, I get that you're not used to people mixing magic and technology like this-"

An exclamation point appeared over Sandy's head. "I do." He jumped a little when everyone turned to look at him, and his cheeks reddened. "Sorry. I'm not used to people hearing what I say. But this - magic and technology interwoven - is how we did things in the Golden Age. My dreamsand is...well, something like nanotechnology and magic together. It was one of the Tsar Illuminovs' master work."

"We all know a little of that sort of work," North added. "But this is…"

"Pitch, right?" Pacifica shoved past Jamie, scowling as she did so. "He's from back then, right? He could do things like this."

Sandy started to shake his head before pausing and shrugging. "He was a warrior, but they were scholars, too, back then."

"He knew how to use your sand," Jamie said, and that brought everyone up short. "I mean-"

"No, no, you're right," Dipper muttered. "He knew enough to free the doppelganger from Uncle Ford's lab, stole the sand for his own use...it's plausible. But didn't his daughter drag him off when we beat him?"

North took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He glanced around the group, and Jamie tensed. He'd seen that look before; it had preceded moments when the Guardians had glossed over parts of their past, claiming the details weren't for children. But then North nodded.

"Mother Nature refused to allow us to...kill Pitch, ages ago. Whatever darkness is in his heart, she believes her father still can be redeemed. Every few centuries, she drags him off to argue, and then sets off a monsoon somewhere when it doesn't work."

"She blames herself." Every head snapped toward Sandy, who stood, lonely, away from them all, head down.

"Sandy?"

"She wished to see her father again," Sandy whispered. "The Dream Pirates heard the wish and used it to mimic her voice, begging him to open the door to the Great Prison, that housed the pirates and the Fearlings. And when he did, the Fearlings drowned him in fear and evil, and he stopped listening to her voice."

"So every now and again, she tries to get him to listen to reason," Tooth added. "She normally gives us a warning when he finally storms off, but…" She shrugged.

"Is not his style," North said.

"As helpful as it is sitting around arguing, we'd probably better do something productive before your rabbit does something stupid back in the real world."

"Stupid? Bunny is very sensible."

"You'd be amazed what dumb ideas people come up with when their loved ones are in danger."

Jamie lost track of the discussion because a ping announced the arrival of a private message from NoTimeForLogic. And it looked like he'd found their culprit.

"Hey, cut it out! We've got a lead." Everyone stopped talking. "Looks like it's a guy named GleefulFalls, and he hangs out in the Necromancer's Pass-"

"Oh, God," Mabel whispered. She fluttered anxiously around Dipper's head. "You don't think…"

"He's the sort to have dug up random crap like this," Dipper muttered. "But I thought he was still in jail."

"What? Who?" North demanded.

"Gideon Gleeful."

"Aw, it's nice to know you haven't forgotten about me, Mabel."

Dipper and Mabel froze, the latter landing heavily on Dipper's head. And a man stepped into the house, a hulking man dressed in a sky blue robe covered in red stars, a platinum helm all but concealing his face. Jamie's heart skipped a beat, because the last time he'd seen this character, Jack had been dragged into this game.

But also because the voice was familiar to him. "You're that psychic I met last spring!"

"You _know_ him? Then you should know he's a liar and a cheat! You're going to give Jack back, Gideon, or-"

"Or what, Mabel? The Guardians are first level in here, and you four...well, you're no match for me. After all, you didn't even notice you can't get out."

Gideon's smile widened as Dipper made a few frantic gestures. "Yeah. That. I'd expected to get the rabbit, you know, but I've learned never to look a gift horse in the mouth."


	4. Chapter 4

Hellebore had been climbing for dozens of floors, and was almost out of charged magic items. He supposed he might be able to use the magic sword he'd found to hack through the ceilings, but it seemed more likely that he'd be out of luck when he ran out of magic.

But he had four rabbit's feet, and that meant his luck lasted just as long as it needed to. As he tossed aside his rod of lightning, drained of magic, voices drifted down through the hole in the roof.

"You'll never get away with this, Gideon!" Hellebore froze, ears twitching. That sounded like Mabel.

"You don't even know half of what I'm trying to do. I mean, kill Jack Frost, obviously, and like I said, the rabbit, too...where _is_ he, by the way? I'd have thought he'd rush off to rescue his boyfriend. Ooh, or is there trouble in paradise? I mean, obviously there's trouble, what with all the soul-stealing going on-"

"I'll never date you, Gideon!"

There was a pause, and then a laugh, high-pitched, but with something else. Bitter, angry. "Oh, I _know_ that, Mabel. I've finally given up on that hope. No, there's a new game afoot. And unless you've got an ace in the hole, all I need to do is hold onto you for another twelve hours or so before your involvement in these affairs is at an end."

Hellebore grinned to himself, and almost clambered up to the next floor before realizing that a strange Pooka running in to rescue them might not go over well, given their experience with Billberry.

So Hellebore concentrated. He'd had centuries of being Jack Frost, and so the shape came more easily than becoming a cat might have been. But it still felt like stretching his body in strange, uncomfortable ways. But then, he was out of practice.

Upstairs, Dipper appeared to have dragged Gideon into an argument about game balance, meaning Helle - _Jack_ \- likely had some time to get close and plan. So he scrambled through the hole to find a wider corridor, the sort of wide, long hall that led to throne rooms. And indeed, following it brought him to an impossibly huge room set at the rear with a throne of bloodstained skulls, on which lounged the bastard who'd stuck Jack in this mess. A dozen stone pillars were situated around the throne in a half-circle, and seven of them were occupied by people bound to them with silvery thread. The only one Jack recognized was Jamie's character, but he suspected that made the others Dipper and Mabel, at least, and...something about the bear-man reminded him of North.

There were smaller pillars scattered around the room, a natural setup to allow someone to approach the throne with cover. Still, Jack moved cautiously, and it took him ten minutes to get within ten yards of the nearest pillar, during which time Gideon had gagged Dipper, the elven character tied to that pillar. Gideon had moved on to shouting at North, something about a medallion that granted telekinetic powers, and whether trying to murder a boy because you suspected he was turning his sister against you counted as 'naughty'.

Dipper glanced sideways, and his eyes widened at the sight of Jack. He wriggled a hand half-free, and made a complicated gesture. Jack shrugged at him, at which point Dipper glared and moved his hands slower. It took a few more repetitions before Jack realized Dipper was trying to mime a snowflake, and he shook his head. _No magic_ , he mouthed.

Dipper rolled his eyes before glaring at Jack. _Why?_

Jack took a step back, nearly stepping out of the shelter of his hiding place. Why indeed? Sure, he hadn't been able to use his ice down in the dungeon, but he'd changed shape getting up here, something that the game didn't allow for.

So Jack dug deep until he found the well of Joy that kept him going, and stomped the ground. Ice erupted from around Gideon, who hopped back just out of the way of the bands that snapped around where he'd been standing. His helm swung around, and Mabel cursed.

"He can see through-"

North roared, snapping the bands around him, and charged at Gideon. Gideon stepped a few inches to the side, and North tripped, tumbling right by Gideon.

But then sharp-edged tendrils of golden sand snapped through everyone's bonds, leaving them all free to face Gideon.

"Don't kill him!" a humanoid fox snapped with the voice of...Pacifica, Jack remembered. "We need him to get us back out of the game-"

"Yeah, you do." Gideon snapped his fingers, to no effect. He stared at his fingers for a long, still moment, before lifting his helm. "What did you _do_?"

Dipper shrugged easily. "It wasn't _that_ hard figuring out what you did. I can't quite figure out how to reverse it-" 

"That's because you _can't_!" Gideon howled. "I was supposed to stick Frost and the rabbit in here and let them _rot_ -" Something niggled at the edge of Jack's consciousness, something about magic, but then Mabel stepped up, frowning, thoughtfully.

"Supposed to? Who-"

Dipper slammed Gideon into the nearest pillar, holding up the massive form with one hand as his eyes gleamed with fury. "You're working with Cipher again, aren't you? _Aren't you_?"

Gideon swiped Dipper away, but he didn't seem to be in the mood to keep fighting. "We're partners, Pines."

"That's a funny way to describe a situation where he gets you to kill yourself off," Pacifica sneered.

"It wasn't supposed to happen this way! The rabbit was supposed to run off half-cocked-"

"I think," North said, cutting through the argument with a low rumble, "that this argument is not productive. Instead, should work together to get _all_ of us out of here."

Gideon tugged off his helm, and glowered at them all, pausing when Mabel cracked her tiny knuckles.

"Fine. But if you think this changes a single thing-"

"It'll mean you owe me one," Mabel snapped. "Even if I still think you're a slimy creep. Now let's get _out_ of here."


	5. Chapter 5

As the hours ticked past, became a day, approached two days, Aster's chest grew tight. He'd had to distract Jamie's mother to keep her from discovering her son resting, soulless, in his room. He'd had to distract himself from counting the minutes, time counting down to the moment Jack's soul would be forever divorced from his body, and he would die.

He'd had to distract himself from the possibility that this might happen to the others, as well.

But the anxiety grew too powerful to ignore, and that meant Aster was going to go mad, or do something to fix this.

It took another precious hour to sketch out the annulus on the floor of Jamie's room and to set candles around it. And then it took another before Aster built up the courage to call forth Bill Cipher.

The Guardian of Truth had said there was a cost to favors, even to another Guardian, and Aster had few illusions about what the cost of returning a soul to a body might be.

When Aster was done chanting, and the air done burning, Bill Cipher hovered in the air above the circle. His eye widened, as if in surprise.

"Hey, Eggs!"

Aster nodded. "G'day, Cipher. I didn't know if you'd show."

"Oh, anything for you, Eggs." Cipher drifted down to Aster's level, slinging an arm around his shoulders.

"You said that, but I wasn't sure if it was fair dinkum."

Cipher made a complicated gesture Aster thought was a shrug. "Oh, I'm always on the up and up, Aster. A practical font of helpfulness. And I've got an idea you need help."

"Too right, mate. Some bloke sent Jackie's soul on walkabout and the rest haven't come back yet."

"And he's been out of his body two and a half days, so you're worried. Understandable."

"So I gotta know...is there anything you can do for him?"

"Hm." Cipher tapped at his tie. "There's a lot of things I could do to him."

" _For him_ ," Aster snapped, anxiously pacing at one edge of the circle. "If you're not going to take this seriously-"

"I thought a little levity might put you in the right mood," Cipher replied. "Keep you from worrying."

"This isn't the time for joking." Aster felt his paws clench, the urge to punch the triangle in the nose oddly reminiscent of an old, painful meeting. "If you can't get Jackie's soul back, at least - I don't know, keep him from dying until we can figure it out on our own."

Cipher chuckled. "Well, the former's very tricky. The latter...doable. Mind, there's a price."

Aster took a deep breath, steeling himself. "I'm ready. Just...tell my mates I love 'em all."

"Wait - what? I'm pretty sure you can do that yourself."

"You're going to take my soul, right?"

Cipher erupted into laughter. When Aster looked at him, Cipher was rocking in place in the air. It took a moment for him to steady, and then he turned that one-eyed gaze on Aster "What use would I have for your soul? No, all I want's an egg."

Aster's stomach clenched, uncertainly. "A googie?"

"I never got Easter eggs as a kid, you know. So I thought, maybe I should get an egg from the Easter Bunny. My choice - I don't want a sub-par egg."

"Oh - no worries! If you don't want my soul, sure!"

Cipher stretched out his hand, but paused and pulled it back. "Mind, there's a catch. A little...proviso. I can _do_ it, but he'd need to agree to it."

Aster's stomach plummeted. There was magic that could only be performed on a willing target, dark, deep magic that could twist the mind and poison the soul. But there was healing magic that fell in the same category. And in either case, the target's true name could be substituted for consent. Jack had refused to share Aster's name with Yubaba once, but she was an opportunistic, selfish huckster who couldn't be trusted. Cipher was a _Guardian_ , albeit one whose existence was all but forgotten.

"You want his name."

" _Want's_ a little strong. I don't exactly have a horse in this race. The egg, I _want_ , the name's what I need to fix _your_ problem."

Aster took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, because this sort of decision was important.

"Alright." He stuck out his paw, and Cipher grabbed it in his own hand, a sensation not unlike touching a live wire pulsing to a slow heartbeat. "Jackson Overland...Frost, I suppose."

And then Cipher began laughing, a stuttering, grating sound. He didn't stop for a full minute, during which Aster's stomach twisted in knots, because he'd made a terrible mistake.

Cipher's laughter died down, and the triangle drew closer. "You know, I actually thought you were smarter than this, Eggs. But people always manage to surprise me."

"What're you going to do to Jack?"

"I'm just going to keep his body from dying off for lack of a soul," Cipher retorted. "I think the _more_ important question is what egg I want from you."

"Who cares about googies at a time like this?"

" _I_ do. And I think we should straighten out the matter of my payment before I get your boy back on his feet. I want you to know what you paid for this."

"Fine! If it'll make you stop gabbing, just tell me what you want!"

"The Light of Creation."

And then Bill, with a manic laugh, dove toward Jack's unconscious form. It had been clear before that Aster had made a mistake; it was crystal clear now how much of a catastrophe it was. He'd been foolish to believe an old book, to trust a creature so obviously evasive. Whatever Bill was, he was the sort of thing that wanted a body, and the sort of thing that wanted power. And for how old the book Aster'd found the mention of the spirit, he wondered how far back the triangular being's machinations went…

Bill slid through Jack with a startled yelp; a moment later, he was back up at eye level, his own eye narrow and edged in red.

"You lying, carrot-eating _animal_! Did you think you'd get away with lying to me? He needs a soul in there to keep from _dying_ , so I need his _real_ name!"

"But that's...his real name," Aster murmured. "Or I...thought it was."

Cipher's explosion of laughter hurt, but not as much as the tightness in his chest at the realization that there was something about Jack - something important - he didn't know.

(But a small, niggling part of his mind pointed out Aster had kept something important from Jack, the last bit of _his_ name.)

"Oh, this is almost worth losing out on the Light!" Cipher circled Aster slowly, sniggering. "I mean, you were never going to get Jack back; soul storage is a one-way trip. But knowing he's going to die because he didn't trust you enough to tell you his name...that's _hilarious_."

Aster grit his teeth, wavering between burning indignation, hollow worry, and the acidic burn of betrayal. But there was also something deeper, the cool bedrock of Aster's soul - his center.

He couldn't give up hope.

Jack coughed and stirred on Jamie's bed, and Cipher froze in mid-air.

"...Toldja you could do it…"

Cipher's eyes grew a hair wider when Jack spoke. "Impossible," he muttered.

Aster felt a grin tugging at his mouth. "It's a real blue to write Jackie off."

Cipher spun on Aster, eyebrow furrowed to make him glare. "No, you don't understand, you, you - _bunny_! It's _impossible_ to reverse a soul storage! To pull it off, you'd have to be some sort of…oh, _fuck_."

"What?"

But Jack moved again, and Cipher vanished in the blink of an eye, such that when Jack's eyes fluttered open, there was no sign of the Guardian of the Gate. And then there was a shift, a moan from North, an unladylike snort from Tooth, and a soft breath from Jamie. But Aster was at Jack's side, pulling him into a tight embrace. Jack started, briefly, but then let out a content sigh.

"Cap'n Bunny…"

Aster's grip faltered for a moment, the nickname a reminder of something long past. "You're safe, Jackie."

"Yeah, about that…"

Aster pulled back, but kept his hands on Jack's shoulders, unwilling to let him go too far. Jack, though, couldn't quite meet Aster's gaze, staring at his lap with lowered eyes.

"Snowflake?"

Jack took a deep breath, and stretched out his arms. They stretched further than they should have, muscles twisting as Jack rolled his shoulders out of Aster's grip. His face shifted, nose widening and lengthening into a muzzle, and then…

A Pooka sat on Jamie's bed, a pale, cream-coated Pooka, fur covered in branching white marks - snowflakes, Aster realized. The other Pooka looked up at Aster with bright blue eyes, and Aster's heart broke.

"Jack, what're you playing at?"

"I…" Jack pulled his arms in, folding them around himself. "I didn't remember anything for so long that I dismissed anything that...didn't fit. Twenty years out of three centuries - why would I remember being something other than human?"

"Jack, this isn't funny-"

"That isn't my name, Bunny." Jack's hands - paws - clenched, and Aster felt his own do so, as well.

"Yeah, you must think I'm a real mug, falling for your little porky. Who are you, really?"

Jack's eyes widened, moistening as he looked up at Aster. "Aster-"

"Stop it!" Aster snapped. "You can't sit here wearing his face, pretending...pretending…"

Aster wouldn't have thought there was anything Jack could say to cut through the confusion and misery, the possibility Jack was doing something to hurt him, that 'Jack' was someone who'd put on a human face to trick them all.

"Echinacea, _please_." It was a whisper, a voice too quiet for anyone but another Pooka to hear.

But more importantly, it was a name no other living soul could know, except the Pooka Aster had once rescued from the ruins of Castle Illuminov.

"Hellebore? How-"

"There was another Pooka on Earth, and the Overlands were right - he died," Jack - Hellebore - said. He lifted his head, something of Jack's mischievous smile in his toothy grin. "But the people who told you that...they couldn't have known that afterward, the Man in the Moon brought him back to life."

And Aster's world swung upside-down, because suddenly he had everything - well, not everything he'd wanted - but more than he'd ever expected to have. Meaningful work, a couple of mates, a - romantic entanglement, and now another living Pooka, a remnant of his past here on Earth.

"What is that?" Jack's - Hellebore's - _Snowflake's_ voice was cool, bordering on, hah, downright frosty.

"Oh, no. Bunny, tell me you didn't promise him anything."

Jack snapped his head around to Jamie, eyes narrow. "Him _who_?"

Jamie, staring at the annulus on the floor, slipped down from his computer chair, shaking his head. "Bill Cipher. He's a dream demon - he makes deals with people - and they're never good." North and Tooth were watching the drama with quiet uncertainty; Sandy looked more concretely worried.

"Yeah, I've been a bit of a drongo-"

"It's not the demon you need to worry about," Jack growled. "It's the Gate of Truth - didn't anyone teach you not to mess around with it?"

"Did you make a deal with him?" Jamie demanded, scrambling awkwardly around the circle. "Because Dipper's going to flip when he hears about this, and I'd like to start damage control before we tell him."

Aster drew back from both of them, at least until Hellebore caught Aster's paws in his own; the other Pooka's gentle, closed-mouthed smile went a long way to assuaging Aster's nerves. Still, his voice shook a little. "I tried to give you a fair go, but I thought you weren't coming back, and, well, thought you were going to cark it-"

"What. Did. You. Promise. Him?"

"I had to give him a googie, but then he couldn't help because I didn't know Jackie's real name, so…"

"Okay." Jamie took a deep breath. "Okay. Still a _really_ stupid idea-"

"You didn't step in the circle, did you?"

"No! I...there was a book that said I'd have to be a twit to try that. But it said there was a Guardian…"

Jamie paled, hands clenching into fists. "There was a book in Katherine's library about the Gate. There was a page missing-"

"Didn't think ankle-biters should have access to a book that let them summon things."

"You probably shouldn't have, either," Jamie retorted. "Bill Cipher's bad news."

"Pitch Black is the king of nightmares," Tooth said. "I don't see how a dream demon can be worse."

"If he's tangled up in the Gate of Truth, he might very well be," Hellebore muttered.

"But we never hear about him."

"The way it works with people like that is either they're a sook, or a ratbag who knows well enough to lay low until they're ready to muck up everybody's day."

"Well, if those are the only choices, it's the ratbag one. He's done a lot of possessing, and Dipper says he's started a couple of apocalypse cults." Jamie's computer began ringing. "That'd be Dipper; he'll back me up on this."

"Yeah, well, unfortunately, we can't run off after a guy we only think is going to do bad things. So I think we're going to have to leave this alone until Cipher actually does something."


	6. Chapter 6

The problem was memory. Knowing everything - total omniscience - didn't come with the ability to sort through what you knew to get answers. Bill Cipher hadn't met many people like him, and he hadn't gone on with them well enough to trade life hacks. So Bill had muddled through on his own, usually keeping his mind focused on his immediate surroundings. But things slipped through the cracks, things he didn't expect or hadn't thought about for eons.

Things like Gideon's little plot with the video games. They'd both checked; there should have been no way to get Jack and the others' souls back into the real world.

But that was because Bill had forgotten about the Constellations, who rewrote the laws of the universe.

He'd been meaning to get a refresher on the topic before the Big Plan went into motion, but now seemed an especially auspicious moment.

Some people sorted their memories like a library, or like aisles of filing cabinets. But Bill preferred his book, with its monstrous index. Because then it took only a moment of looking to find the page reference for 'Constellations'.

" _The Constellations were twelve clans born before the Golden Age, the effect of long-term exposure to the Light of Creation. Each bore a unique speciality, such as mastery over the magic of time, souls, imagination, or belief. Aside from their complete mastery over a particular aspect of reality, the Constellations were extraordinarily skilled in the area of magic and technology. Within their areas of expertise, the Constellations could accomplish that which was impossible. It was known House Fritillary could raise the dead, and suspected House Styx could turn back time. They were called 'Constellations' because of the unique birthmarks found among the Tsars, the most powerful members of the families._

" _Of the Constellations, only one Tsar remains in the realm of the living, the result of the work of the Fearlings, the physical manifestation of the darkest corners of the mortal imagination. The destruction of House Illuminov united the Constellations in war against the Fearlings and Dream Pirates, but the fall of the Great Prison marked their doom..._ "


End file.
